Hero Worship

“Dude, look at him. The man is a god,” Sutton said of the quarterback on the TV. His best friend, Jessup, lit up another joint and passed it to him.

Sutton took a hit and handed the joint back to Jessup, he took in a deep toke and held it. He blew out a little smoke and in a strained voice said, “Do you know how much pussy he must get?”

“God, dude, the number is infinite,” Sutton marveled, glassy eyed.

“I read online that he’s slept with over a hundred women.”

“I bet that’s a lowball number. He’s fucking Kent Connor.”

“You’re probably right,” Jessup agreed. “If I looked like him and had his money, I’d fuck pussy until my dick fell off. If he wins this game, it’s off to the Superbowl and that means the pussy train.”

“Can you imagine what it must be like to be him?” said Sutton, his voice a slow cadence.

“Everyone throwing themselves at him. He could have anyone he wanted.”

“Who wouldn’t want to be with him?” Sutton agreed matter-of-factly.

“Right?” Jessup agreed, sitting back and laying his head on the back of the couch.

“He’s such a boss,” Sutton sat with wide eyes, staring at the football game but eyes fixed on the quarterback. Out of blue he remarks, “I would let that man fuck me in the ass.”

“What?” Jessup questioned with a stoned laugh.

“I mean it,” Sutton told him. “If he wanted to fuck me in the ass, I’d let him. That’s how much I respect him.”

Jessup guffawed, “Ok, dude, that is fucking gay.” He still wasn’t taking his buddy seriously. Why would he? Sutton was a man’s man. He was the epitome of a red-blooded American heterosexual male. He was a little rough around the edges, but he made up for that with his boy-next-door handsome face, his gym-built, powerhouse body; his athleticism was evident just in the way he walked and carried himself. He loved to show off his body, wearing snug t-shirts that displayed his biceps and tight jeans that molded to his round muscular bubble butt.

Sutton shook his head and was very adamant in his delivery. “I don’t care, bro. He’s a God. Heisman Trophy winner, number one quarterback in the NFL, has hundreds of millions of dollars, dripping in pussy, has a ten-thousand square foot house, Sports Illustrated Man of the Year, GQ man of the year, People’s Sexiest Man Alive for the second year in a row and he’s a handsome motherfucker.”

Jessup looked at him sideways, slowly realizing Sutton might not be kidding. “Dude, you sound so gay right now. How do you know all that shit?”

“I read, dumbass.”

“You do not. You watch too much fucking ESPN.”

Sutton looked at him with questioning eyes. “You’re telling me you don’t think he’s attractive?”

“Duh. Of course, I know that. I’m just not gay for him like you are, bro.”

“I’m not gay for him. I’m just saying, hypothetically, the man is so awesome that he could probably turn a straight guy… like me.” He turned to Jessup and said for reassurance, “I’m not gay, dude.”

“Right,” Jessup laughed. “I bet you’re thinking about his biceps or his tight ass.”

“He DOES have great biceps, they’re ripped,” Sutton defended himself. He watched the QB jog to the sideline, the mound of muscular ass meat packed into shiny, white spandex football pants. He felt a little rush of adrenaline as he imagined what it would feel like to touch it. The more Sutton smokes the braver he gets. After a short silence he added, “You wish you had an ass like that.”

Jessup rolled his eyes and reached for the joint. With a matter-of-fact shrug he said, “I do have an ass like that, fag.” He winked and laughed after he said it.

“True,” Sutton muttered with a shrug. His best bud was nothing to sneer at. The kid did have a nice ass, everyone says so, thought Sutton.

Jessup raised an eyebrow. “You think I have a nice ass? Are you fagging out, dude?”

“Fuck off, Jess,” Sutton said as he punched him on the shoulder, almost knocking Jessup over. “I’ll admit when I know another dude is attractive.” He took a swig of beer and burped before adding, “Or if he has a nice ass.”

Sutton was telling the truth. He could tell when a guy was hot, he has been hit on by gay men countless times, it flattered him. He was told on numerous occasions he himself had a very nice ass. He knew it too. He always wore pants or shorts that flattered his high and tight ass. When it came to hot straight guys, he saw them as competition. He would size up the other hot guy in the room to ascertain whether he was a threat. That’s what happened when Sutton and Jessup met for the first time, he recognized that Jessup was hot, maybe hotter than himself. They both sized one another up long before they were even introduced. Sutton saw him as an immediate threat and was ready to assert his alpha on the other handsome guy. But after a few minutes of chatting, they hit it off like they’d always been best friends. Sutton liked Jessup; he made a good wingman at a bar. Two built, good-looking guys always scored pussy. Jessup was a pussy hound. He too was athletic, muscular, lean but not bulky like Sutton. He had an olive complexion with jet black hair that was thick and wavy. He had the thickest, longest eyelashes, almost like he was wearing eyeliner, his blue eyes popped behind his thick lashes.

“Dude, I’ll admit it too. But it doesn’t mean I think about having butt sex with a dude.”

“Whatever,” Sutton slurred sleepily, annoyed. “I was just talking. Asshole.”

“You talk a lot when you smoke. Maybe pot makes you gay.”

“Fuck off. Hand me that blunt, dick head.”

“As long as you don’t start boning up if we keep watching the game,” Jessup warned him with a laugh.

They were silent as they continued to watch the game and Sutton watched Kent Connor, the tall, broad quarterback who oozed sex. Sutton would give anything to meet him. He thought it would be awesome to hang out with him, ask questions, tag along and pick up the girls Kent didn’t want. He pulled out his phone and googled Kent Connor and scrolled through the images of the hunk with various women at red carpet events, pics of him working out, and pics of him in his tight football pants. Sutton was strangely aroused inside at the awe of Kent Connor.

Sutton continues to scroll and then out of nowhere he announces, “I think if he were into dudes, he’d be into me. Don’t you think he’d be into me?”

“Oh my god, Sutton. Stop,” Jessup punched him in the shoulder. “How fucking high are you?”

Sutton shrugged, pleading his case. “Seriously, I’m a hot guy. I think I’d be his type. I bet he would go for a dude like me, someone athletic, and built, hot, a great kisser. And I have a great ass!”

“I can’t believe we’re sitting here watching football and you’re talking about fucking the quarterback,” Jessup mumbled, shaking his head while still watching the TV.

“No, I said he’d fuck ME,” Sutton corrected him with a jovial slur.

“STOP! Dude. Stop.” Jessup was getting uncomfortable with his best friend talking about going gay.

The more Sutton thought about it, he was very confident that if he and Kent were a couple, he would be the bottom. He couldn’t picture Kent as a bottom. Kent was too big and tough, too masculine and too much of a beast. He wondered what it would be like to have Kent give him all his attention. He thought it be cool if Kent was sexually attracted to him. Then he thought about how much it would hurt to have a cock in his ass. Good thing he was stoned, he would be freaking out if he were thinking about these things sober.

Jessup didn’t mind gay dudes, he had close friends who were gay. But they didn’t go around talking so openly about their sex life. He just couldn’t imagine having a dick in his ass. All he envisioned was a lot of pain. MAYBE he could fuck an ass if he had to, he’s done anal with girls. He loved it. His gay friends told him it wasn’t as good as fucking ass because dudes were tighter, still, he didn’t want to find out.

“Hypothetically, if you were gay, wouldn’t you want him to bone you?” Sutton asked in all seriousness.

“I’m not gay,” Jessup answered frustrated. “I’m going to punch you,” he warned with a heavy sigh.

“But if you were?”

“Oh, fucking Christ!” Jessup exclaimed in tortured frustration. “If I were gay, yes, of course. He’s fucking Kent Connor. I bet all the gay guys have a hard on for him,” he mumbled. Jessup took his beer and as an afterthought he tipped his beer at Sutton for added emphasis and said, “And, dude, if I were gay, I’d be fucking him. Now way am I the bitch.”

“Ah, so that means if you were into him, you’d definitely be into me.”

Jessup did a spit-take with his beer. Amused he said, “What? Why? Are you a bitch?”

“Dunno, maybe. But you must admit, I’m pretty fucking hot. If we were gay, you and me, we’d fuck.”

Jessup laughed. “Right. YOU would definitely by my bitch.”

“Hmm…,” Sutton hummed. “Yep, I think I would be. Something tells me if I were a fag, I’d be into getting boned by dudes like you.”

“Sut, you are so fucked up. No more beer and pot at the same time,” Jessup announced as he took away Sutton’s beer. “Can we stop talking about fucking each other? It’s weirding me out. Watch the game and hand me a beer.”

“I bet he has a big dick.”

“SUTTON!”

1 MONTH LATER

“Dude! Holy fuck! Holy fuck!” Sutton said to Jessup overly excited.

“WHAT dude? What?” Jessup asked excitedly.

“Kent Connor. It’s fucking Kent Connor!” Sutton’s voice went high.

“What? Where?” Jessup asked, disbelieving his friend.

“There, dude,” he pointed at a man on the other side of the hotel pool. “Fucking Kent Connor is staying at the same hotel we are.”

Jessup focused in on a guy who was leaning on a high table, drinking a beer. He was way on the other side of the hotel pool, but he could still tell the man was big, too big to be a quarterback but then that was what made Kent Connor so sexy, he was bigger than most pro quarterbacks.

“Shit!” Jessup said in shock. “It is Kent Connor. Wow, he is bigger in person.”

“He’s fucking amazing,” Sutton said, mesmerized by how Kent looked even better in person. “Christ, look at those arms.”

“Yeah, no shit. Ok, he is impressive,” Jessup admitted.

“That’s an understatement.”

“Are you fanboying?” Jessup laughed, patting his buddy on the shoulder.

“Jess, it’s Kent fucking Connor,” Sutton said with all seriousness.

When Sutton and Jessup checked into their hotel that morning on the first day of their vacation, they never imagined seeing Sutton’s man crush, an NFL quarterback, hanging out by the pool. Sutton was suddenly trembling and anxious. His mouth went dry, and he became suddenly self-conscientious about his looks and what he was wearing.

“I know, bro. God, you’re about to come unglued.”

“Oh shit, he looked this way. How do I look?” Sutton asked Jessup as he straightened his shirt, making sure it wasn’t wrinkled.

“How do you look? What the fuck?” Jessup said with a confused glare.

“How’s my hair? Do I look ok in this shirt? Oh shit,” Sutton rattled off in a nervous frenzy.

“Sutton, you’re acting like a fucking girl.”

“He just looked over here again,” Sutton said in a loud whisper. “Fuck, I’m going to go change.”

“Oh, my fucking God! You’re being fucking ridiculous! Like he’s even going to talk to you. You’re making yourself look like an ass.”

Not listening to his buddy, he worried out loud, “What if I leave and when I come back, he’s gone?”

“I can not believe this is happening.” Jessup rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Right?” Sutton referring to Kent and not to himself freaking out. “Oh, God. He keeps looking over here.”

“Dude, what makes you think he’s looking at you?” Jessup taunted. “See how many hot chics there are around us? He’s trying to get laid, not thinking about a fucking fanboy.”

“Fuck. I need a bathroom. I need a mirror. Where’s the fucking bathroom?” Sutton was now almost hysterical.

“On the other side of the pool,” Jessup said in a frustrated and bored tone. There was no way in hell that Kent Connor gave a shit about Sutton.

“Oh yeah. I’ll be right back,” Sutton said turning to leave. Suddenly, he turned back and said, “Text me if you think he’s going to leave.”

Jessup rolled his eyes again. “You’re an idiot. I’m gonna go get laid. Good luck with your new boyfriend,” he said as he turned and left, heading towards a swarm of bikini-clad women.

After about ten minutes in the bathroom, Sutton finished primping in the mirror. He was leaving the bathroom and ran straight into a solid mountain of muscle.

“Sorry!” Sutton heard a deep voice above him say.

“No, I’m…,” Sutton started to apologize and then he looked up and saw who he ran into. “Shit.” It was Kent Connor.

“Are you ok, dude?” the man said laying his hand on Sutton’s shoulder.

“Uh huh,” Sutton replied wide eyed.

“Sure?”

“You’re… you’re,” Sutton stammered.

“Kent,” the man said.

“Connor,” Sutton finished.

“That too,” Kent chuckled. “And you are?”

“Button. I mean, Sutton,” Sutton stammered again. He couldn’t believe he just said that.

“Sutton, nice to meet you.” Kent held out his hand to shake.

“Shit. Nice to meet you too?” Sutton didn’t know why he said it in the form of a question. He was just so shocked he was talking to his idol. He took Kent’s large hand and shook it. It was a very firm, warm handshake. His heart skipped a beat.

“Was that a question or an answer?” Kent laughed. It was obvious to Kent that the kid was enamored with him.

“Yes. I mean, no. I mean… shit.” Sutton buried his face in his palms.

“Slow down, cowboy. Let’s take a deep breath and I’ll buy you a drink.” Kent smiled and patted Sutton on the chest. Sutton felt a twinge of something shoot through his body at the touch.

“Uh huh.” Sutton just stood there staring at the famous football player.

“Stay,” Kent said, pointing at him as he turned to go to the bar.

Sutton flinched at the command, then stood up straight. “Ok,” he said, shaking his head quickly.

He watched Kent as he walked. From the back, the quarterback was so broad, wide shoulders, long powerful legs. He walked with confidence, nodding hello to the other people who stopped to stare as he walked by. He commanded the space. His presence drew you to him. Sutton couldn’t help but notice the way Kent’s pants were tight across his football player ass. It was high and tight, it looked so solid and muscular. He caught himself staring and then broke out of his trance and realized he was staring at another man’s ass.

He saw Kent coming back holding a bottle of Jack and two shot glasses. Sutton was trembling, watching the gorgeous, mountain of muscle strutting towards him, keeping direct eye contract. The football player nodded his head to a table that was far away from the other guests and Sutton mindlessly followed him.

“Here you go, big guy.” Sutton couldn’t believe Kent Connor had just said he was big. It means he noticed his body. “A nice shot of whiskey to calm your nerves.”

“Thank you, Kent Connor,” Sutton said as he quickly downed the shot.

“It’s just Kent,” Kent reminded him.

“Yes, sorry, Kent Connor.”

Kent laughed and patted him on the chest again. His hand lingered as it slid down Sutton’s pecs ever so slightly. “You’re hilarious,” Kent said with a gleaming white smile. “You’re a big boy. You play ball?”

Sutton felt the big hand slide over his chest, lingering on his nipple before pulling away. He looked up at Kent and Kent stared back. Sutton was trying to understand the situation. If he didn’t know better, he thought Kent was coming on to him.

Kent was coming on to him, slowly. Kent saw the kid from across the room and zeroed in on the hunky kid. He could see the fanboy reaction and knew the kid was hot to trot for him. He just didn’t know how much, yet.

“I do. I mean no. I mean I did. In high school and college. Oh my god. I’m a complete dumbass. I’m so sorry,” Sutton groveled, embarrassed.

“It’s ok. It happens daily,” Kent said in a calmly manner.

“I’m your biggest fan. I mean I am THE BIGGEST fan. YOU’RE biggest fan.” Now Sutton sounded like an obsessed fan.

“I get that daily too,” Kent smiled.

“No,” Sutton said shaking his head. “I know everything about you. I know everything!”

“Everything?” Kent feigned surprise.

“Everything!”

“I bet you don’t know EVERYTHING,” Kent smiled with a wink.

“I… I can tell you all your stats.”

“I already know all my stats,” Kent told him, amused and humoring the adoring fanboy.

“I can tell you how much you make.”

“I know that too.”

“I know what you drive, I know how big your house is, I know you like to surf and do triathlons in the off season. I know what you bench. I know how tall you are, how much you weigh, I even know your dog’s name.”

“Wow, you do know a lot about me. I’d rather hear about YOU?”

“Me?” Sutton was suddenly confused. Why the hell would this man want to know anything about him.

“Yeah, you,” Kent playfully patted Sutton’s pec again. “Damn, you’re solid.” Sutton realized he liked the older man stroking his muscular body.

“Why?”

“Why are you solid?” Kent laughed.

“Yes. No! Why do you care about me?” Sutton was a sweaty mess. He was not used to being so enamored with anyone other than his own reflection.

“You know so much about me, it’s only fair I know stuff about you.”

“But I’m nobody.”

“No. You’re somebody to me,” Kent said with a squeeze of Sutton’s shoulder.

Sutton was in complete shock. “But… but you’re Kent Connor.”

“And you are Button… Sutton,” Kent teased and then waiting to hear Sutton’s last name, “Sutton…?”

“Morrow,” Sutton almost shouted as if he forgot his last name and then suddenly remembered.

“Sutton Morrow. Sutton, interesting name.”

“Uh, yeah. Family name.”

“I like it.”

“You like my name. Wow,” Sutton gushed.

Kent laughed and then lowered his voice. He didn’t need to, no one was close enough to hear them.

“Dude, this booze is for shit. I’ve got better stuff upstairs. Let’s go drink some real whiskey.”

Sutton was ecstatic. “Yeah! That sounds awesome!”

“Follow me, Button,” Kent winked. Sutton laughed at the new nickname. “I’m in the penthouse.”

The ride up in the elevator was silent. They both looked in the mirrored wall in front of them. Kent was staring at the younger hunk beside him, enjoying how well they looked standing next to each other. One big, tall, handsome man, and one shorter, muscular, athletic stud next to him. Sutton noticed it too. He couldn’t believe he was hanging out with Kent Connor. He couldn’t but think how sexy the football player was in person. He stared at Kent through the reflection and thought they would look great together as a couple.

Sutton followed Kent into a huge penthouse suite with a view of the city. He was very impressed.

“I’m going to change out of this dress shirt, put on something more comfortable. Make yourself at home,” Kent told him, and he disappeared into the bedroom. A few minutes later he returned wearing a tight, gray t-shirt. His massive pecs stretched the fabric, and his arms stressed the sleeves. Sutton stared at him and suddenly felt inadequate.

“Yeah. Ok,” Kent asked him, knowing he looked hot. He picked the tight t-shirt on purpose.

“Wow, you’re jacked,” Sutton commented with drunken eyes and a little slur.

“Yeah, thanks. I’ve been training so hard. During the season I get so big and then in the off season I lean out. I think I’, getting too big,” Kent said, flexing his biceps. Sutton swallowed hard and felt a twitch in his dick. He couldn’t get over the muscle, all that hard muscle; all the hard, powerful muscle, he wanted to touch it.

“Too big?” Sutton perked up. “No way, dude. You’ve never looked too big. Is there such a thing?”

“You like me big?” Kent asked, digging for more compliments from Sutton. The more compliments he could drag out of him, the more susceptible it made the kid.

“Yeah, man. I’d kill to have arms like yours.”

“What? Sutton, your arms are perfect. Flex that gun for me.” Kent grabbed hold of Sutton’s defined hard ball of a bicep and squeezed.

“Very nice, man. Your arms are swole, and hard. Here, grab a bicep.” Kent flexed his arm and Sutton watched as the bicep turned into a huge baseball. He slowly reached up and touched it and then he cupped it with his hand. He felt his heart skip.

“Damn. Hard as a fucking rock!” Sutton mumbled.

“So are you, bud.”

“Nah. I’m nowhere near you.”

“Give it time.”

Kent reached forward to the coffee table and pour two glasses of whisky and handed one to Sutton.

“How old are you, Sutton?”

“I’m twenty-four.”

“You look much younger, like, nineteen or twenty.”

“Twenty-nine! You’re twenty-nine,” Sutton suddenly blurted out.

“Yes. Yes, I am,” Kent broke up laughing. “So, you’re Sutton Morrow. You’re twenty-four. You’re a football fan. And you’re obsessed with me.”

“Uh, no!” Sutton told him.

“Oh, I think you are,” Kent winked and then held his forefinger above his thumb. “Lil bit.”

“No, Kent Connor, I mean, Kent. I’m not a stalker or anything like that. I just watch too much ESPN.”

“Let me guess,” Kent squinted and crossed his massive arms over his chest. “You watch ESPN, but you also read People, Sports Illustrated and GQ as well?”

Sutton shrugged his shoulders and blushed. “I guess.”

“And all those fan sites?”

“Some.”

“That means you’ve seen the ones with the shirtless beach photos,” Kent said as he wagged his eyebrows. “The speedo shots?”

Sutton froze up. “I’ve seen… some.”

“Oh. Just some?”

Sutton could feel a palpable sexual energy in the room. He knew where this could be going but just couldn’t believe it would.

“Not ALL of them. I read the gossip shit and I know most of that is bullshit. Isn’t it?” Sutton asked.

“Maybe. You’ve heard about all the pussy I get?”

“Who doesn’t? You’re fucking Kent Connor.”

“Hmm. That I am.” Kent leaned in closer. “I don’t get as much pussy as everyone thinks I do.”

“What?” Sutton replied shocked. “That’s bullshit!” He started to think maybe Kent was bisexual since he has been seen with beautiful models, stunning actresses but here he was putting moves on Sutton. Sutton was still in between denial and reality.

“Why do you think that?” Kent asked as he refilled Sutton’s shot glass.

“Dude, look at you. Six-foot-four, two-hundred-ten pounds, your muscles have muscles, you look like a fucking model and you’re a fucking NFL football quarterback.”

“Wow, you do know everything about me. You’re very…observant. Maybe more than you should be,” Kent said to him in a very serious voice, direct eye contact. Sutton blushed and then looked away. He found it hard to keep direct eye contact at that moment. Kent was so intense.

Sutton was getting drunk and therefore, his inhibitions were moving farther and farther away. He was getting bolder. “I’m secure enough in my masculinity to admit when a dude is hot.”

“So am I.”

“Right on, dude.” Sutton offered Kent a fist bump. “My buddy was giving me shit because I told him I would let you…, oh shit.” Even though he was drunk, Sutton realized what he almost admitted to.

“Let me what?” Kent asked.

“Nothing,” Sutton laughed it off. “We were high as fuck. I don’t even remember.”

“Have another shot and maybe it will come back to you.”

“Another? Fuck, you can really hold your liquor. I’m SO fucked up.” Sutton hesitated but if Kent Connor wanted him to drink another shot, he wasn’t about to say no. Sure.”

Kent held up his shot and they clinked them together. “Cheers. Well, like I said, I’m secure enough to admit when a dude is hot too. Most guys do, they just don’t want to admit it.”

“Right? I know!” Sutton was so glad that Kent agreed with him.

“For instance, I’ll admit that I think you’re hot.”

“What?” Sutton froze. Did Kent Connor just say I was hot? Sutton felt another surge run through his body. He couldn’t believe that a stud like Kent would even consider him being hot. Sutton was trembling and excitement and anticipation, at what, he wasn’t sure.

“I said I think you’re hot,” Kent repeated, his face like stone, relaying his seriousness.

“You… you do?”

“Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Because, because, compared to you…,” Sutton stammered in disbelief.

“Trust me, Sutton, you’re hot.” Kent placed his hand on Sutton’s shoulder and squeezed.

“What, what is happening.” Sutton was beyond confused.

“I think it’s obvious.”

“It is?”

“I’m attracted to you, Sutton,” Kent said without fear or shame.

“You are?”

“I am.”

Sutton studied the man’s face and then broke down in laughter. “Ok, did Jessup put you up to this? He did, didn’t he?”

“Jessup?” Kent asked confused. He honestly didn’t know who this Jessup was, but he speculated it was the hot, dark haired guy Sutton was hanging with.

“Yeah, Jessup. Did he also tell you I said I’d let you fuck me in the ass? He did, didn’t he? Fucker?” Sutton was lost in thought and mad that he thought his best friend would betray him.

Kent raised an eyebrow. Did he just hear what he thought he heard? SCORE! “You’d let me fuck you in the ass?”

“Yeah, he told you that, right?”

“I have no idea who Jessup is.”

Suddenly Sutton was frozen, horrified that he just told Kent a piece of embarrassing information. “You don’t?”

“Nope.”

“Shit.” Sutton looked down at his shot glass in regret.

“But I do like the part about me fucking you up the ass,” Kent told him in a sexy, baritone loud whisper while he grinned an evil grin.

Sutton’s head shot up. “You do?”

“Oh, fuck yeah. With an ass like yours? Why did you think I kept staring at you today?”

“I… I don’t know.” Sutton lied but he didn’t know what to do or say. He was flattered but at the same time was experiencing conflicting thoughts. He was scared but, yet, turned on. He was elated that this alpha male thought about him sexually.

“Sutton, you are the hottest piece of ass here,” Kent said.

Suttons eyes were wide with shock. He was so drunk that he blurted out, “Are you… gay?” Sutton exclaimed loudly, his voice echoing in the massive room.

Kent gazed in the handsome kid’s eyes and laughed. “Let’s not announce that to the WHOLE hotel.”

“Oh my God. Oh my God,” Sutton kept repeating.

“You’re straight.” Kent said matter-of-factly.

“Yeah.”

“Really? Sure about that?” Kent asked as he stroked Suttons forearm.

“Uh uh.” Sutton’s mouth was dry. The comment about his sexuality made him second guess himself. Did he put off a gay vibe? Did he act gay? Dress gay? Talk gay? His arrogant ego was bruised and now, he questioned everything.

“Care to test that theory?”

“What?”

“You heard me,” Kent told him with an almost disappointed tone. He had the kid in a corner.

“Are you…”

“Hitting on you, yes, we already established that.”

“But you’re…”

Kent shook his head with impatience. “Kent Connor, we have established that too.”

“And you want to…”

“Take you the bedroom and rail you? Yes. We have now established that too.”

“Rail me? I’m not… I’m not gay.” Sutton was so shocked and confused and turned on at the same time. Kent fucking Connor just told him that he wanted to fuck him.

“Not yet.”

“I… oh, my God.” Sutton was trembling. He wanted to tell the man who sexy he thought the football player was. How he was questioning himself, being so close to the bigger man.

Kent sat back into the couch and changed the subject as to not scare the poor kid.

“So, I assume you want to ask me a million questions. Shoot,” Kent said with a smile.

“I bet your tired of guys asking you the same questions over and over.”

“No, not necessarily. It just depends on who’s asking.”

“You mean like reporters?”

“No, well, there have been a few. But mostly guys like you. Just like you.”

“Just like me?”

“I have a type.”

“You have a type? I’m YOUR type?”

“Hmmm, let’s see.” Kent stroked his chin as if in deep thought. As he looked the gorgeous man up and down, he said, “I’d say your six-one, one-ninety-five, athletic, jacked, small waist, dark hair, blue eyes, square jaw, masculine and a really, really nice ass.”

“You think I have a nice ass.”

“Kid, it’s the hottest thing about you. I think we’re already decided that.”

“I mean, I’ve been told I have a nice ass a million times, but I’ve never heard it from a dude.”

“Well, you have now.”

Sutton knew he should be weirded out, but he wasn’t. He found himself mesmerized by the famous athlete and he really liked the compliments. He laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Sutton mused.

“I told Jessup that YOU had a nice ass.”

“Oh? You noticed. That’s not very heterosexual,” Kent teased.

“Yeah. It’s obvious to everyone.”

“Very obvious to you.”

“I guess.” Sutton paused, contemplating his next question. “So, when you… hook up, do guys like me, do they sit here and ask you a million questions like I’m doing right now?”

“No.”

“Oh. They don’t?”

“No, they don’t sit here. It’s usually in bed after I’ve fucked them,” Kent answered bluntly.

Sutton flinched in shock the Kent would be so blunt. “OH.”

Kent chuckled. “You’re cute when you’re terrified.”

“I’m not…terrified. Just freaked out… a little bit.”

“That’s ok. No pressure.”

“And are all those guys you fuck, are they straight like me?”

“Yes. Most of them anyway. There are some gay guys here and there, but straight guys are more discreet. Those are the ones I hook up with when I’m in their area.”

“You have straight hook ups in different cities?”

“Dude, you wouldn’t believe how many straight boys would give their left nut to be with me for a night. Guys that you would never guess would let another dude touch them, let me touch them wherever I want. They go back to their straight lives until they get a text from me with a room number and bam, they have nine-inches if Kent Connor in their ass.”

“That easy, huh?”

“That fucking easy. It’s hero worship, bro. Guys would let their hero do anything to them just so they can spend time and brag to their buddies they hung out with me. They’ve always secretly wondered what it would be like to get with me. They want to be dominated by me.”

“Huh.”

“I’m your hero, aren’t I, Sutton?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“So, if you knew your hero thought you were worthy of his time, you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Sutton?”

“Yeah,” Sutton answered, hypnotized.

“You’d like me texting you, showing off to your friends that you know Kent Connor?”

“I would fucking love that.”

“Wouldn’t you like to really get to know me?”

“I feel like I know so much already.”

“You just know what I allow the media to know. My close friends know me better. I like you, Sutton. I think we could be very good friends.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m very generous with my friends. If I trust you, that is.”

“Do you trust me?”

Kent smiled. “After tonight, I think I will.”

Sutton swallowed hard again. He was in such a state of shock that this was happening.

Kent patted him on the leg. “Hey, I have some extra VIP tickets to the Superbowl next month. You want to go? Be my guest? Bring your buddy alone. I’ll fly you down.”

Sutton almost had a heart attack. “What? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Nope. First class. You’d have your own box, fully catered. The ticket gets you into an after-game party as well with the team. You can meet some other teammates, maybe some actors. I’ll hook up with you guys after the game and we can party.”

“Holy shit! Yeah, I’d love to go, man.”

“Great. I’ll get it set up. Maybe we can have a dinner date while you’re in town,” Kent said with a wink.

“A date?” Sutton asked with hesitation.

“Relax. It’s just a figure of speech.”

“No, I know.”

“But you have to admit, how many guys can say they went on a date with Kent Connor?”

“Um… not many since you seem to only date closeted straight guys,” Sutton answered with sarcasm.

“That’s true… too bad.”

“What is?”

“That you’re straight. We look good next to each other.”

“Well, from what I saw in the elevator mirror, I will agree with that,” Sutton agreed. Even though he was hammered, he was surprisingly following the conversation quite well.

“Yeah, we’d be one hot couple. Big, hot athlete jock and his boy toy.”

Sutton laughed. He never thought of he would be anyone’s boytoy. “Right. Me, a boy toy.”

“You wouldn’t want to be my boy toy?”

“I don’t think I’m ready for that kind of commitment,” Sutton quipped sarcastically.

“You wouldn’t want to hang out, watch tv, have a beer here on the couch. I’d take care of you.”

“Not a lot of room on this couch.” Sutton was getting nervous.

“That’s why I would need to be close, like this?” Kent moved closer until their knees were touching but Sutton made no effort to move his knee away.

“You’re hot. I mean, your body temperature is hot,” Sutton commented as he felt heat radiating from Kent’s smooth skin.

“I’m sitting next to a very hot man. You get me hot.”

“I can’t believe I’m sitting next to Kent Connor. And I can’t believe he’s hitting on me.”

“I hear that a lot. The question is what are you going to do about it?”

Kent stretched his arm up and set it down behind Sutton’s head.

Sutton chuckled. “Did you just do the fake stretch to put your arm around me, bro?”

“It worked.” Kent became bold and moved his hand to Sutton’s muscular shoulder. “Damn, Sutton, your shoulders.”

Sutton laughed out loud. He had done this move so many times on women. He had this guy’s number.

“You’re such a player, asshole. This must be what it feels like to be the girl on a date.”

“Luckily, you’re not a girl. Come on, Sutton. Just relax and play along.” Kent stroked his shoulder and then massage it.

Sutton felt the big hand kneading his hard shoulder and again, he didn’t attempt to move away. He loved the feeling of the older athlete taking so much pleasure in his body.

“I don’t even know what that means, play along.” Sutton chuckled but moved closer to the man.

“It means, just let go and experiment. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“So, you want me to just suddenly experiment with another guy?” Sutton guffawed.

“Why not? It’s me, Button,” Kent teased. “You want to. You’re just freaked out.”

Sutton cleared his throat and took a drink. “Maybe, I’ve thought about it, messing around with you.”

“See?”

“Just want to know what it would be like.”

“You want to know what it’s like to kiss me? How I kiss? How would you feel knowing you just kissed Kent Connor?”

Sutton shrugged. “Um… it would be… interesting.”

“It would be hot. Feel this.” Kent led Sutton’s hand to his chest and made him stroke it. “Impressive?”

“Very fucking impressive.” Sutton was so much into Kent’s muscles. He wondered how much power and strength he was capable of. He thought Kent could probably manhandle him and throw him around with no problem.

“I bet your lips are soft, Sutton.”

“Uh huh,” Sutton answered shyly.

“Can I see? Just a small kiss.”

“Um,” Sutton bit his bottom lip, thinking.

“Just one.”

Kent blew out a breath of air. He’d gone this far. It was Kent Connor for Christ’s sake. He can’t say not to the greatest quarterback in the NFL. “Ok.”

Kent leaned into Sutton. Sutton could feel his warm breath. He watched the man come in and press his lips to his own. There was a small amount of tongue but not much. It was a loud, wet smack.

“Yeah, I knew it. Soft lips. Well?”

“Not so bad.” Sutton thought it was more than not bad.

“Not so bad? Dude, you just kissed your Kent Connor. Throw me a bone, here.”

“It’s my first time kissing a dude. I have nothing to compare it to.”

Kent went in for another kiss. This one a little longer, a little wetter.

“Well?”

Sutton smiled. “Hmmm… don’t know. Maybe I need some more.” Sutton flirted.

“Third time’s a charm,” Kent said as he went in for yet, another kiss but Sutton stopped him.

“Damn. Ok, if I do this, you have to promise to never… wait, who the hell are you going to tell?”

They both stared into each other’s eyes. The lust was growing, and Sutton felt like he was going to explode.

Suddenly, out of the blue, Kent asked, “Want to make out?”

Sutton did not hesitate as he said, “Hell, yes."